


Choices

by flashforeward



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Castration, M/M, THRUSH, Trans Illya, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya makes a choice and he must face the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After

**Author's Note:**

> No idea how long this will be. Chapters will be fairly short. More vignette-esque than anything else, I think.

Illya finds Archimedes sitting at his desk, fingers steepled, watching the door like he's been expecting Illya's arrival. Likely he has. He smiles across the office at Illya, who's stopped in the doorway. He tightens his grip on the gun in his hand - a proper one, with bullets, not Uncle's sleep darts - and turns his body just enough to hide it from view. "Where's Napoleon?" he asks, eyes fixed on Archimedes.

 

The man studies him, brown eyes bright in the harsh light from the overhead lamp. He leans back, tapping his fingers together before clasping his hands and letting them drop to the desk top with a heavy thud. "I'm afraid you are too late," he says with a halfhearted shrug. "Mr. Solo is already dead."

 

"Wrong answer," Illya says, turning slightly and raising the gun. His hand is steady as he holds his aim between Archimedes's eyes.

 

The smile never leaves Archimedes lips as he raises his arms, ingratiating and infuriating. "Now, now, Mr. Kuryakin, you cannot kill me. I am too useful."

 

He's mostly right. Archimedes is chump change as far as Thrush is concerned, too far down on the ladder to matter too much to the higher ups. Expendable. But for Uncle he is a usable asset. He cannot get them to the top, but he can give them a leg up to the next rung.

 

Illya shrugs and pulls back the hammer, the click echoing strangely between them. "With you out of the way, I have the run of this place. I can search it from top to bottom, I'm sure I'll find something." It's a bluff, and they both know it. Thrush would never leave a paper trail. The chances of Illya finding any scrap of information just lying around are practically nonexistent. Still. A shadow of worry crosses Archimedes's brow and Illya wonders if there's something he hasn't yet destroyed, something Illya can find once this is taken care of.

 

He resists the urge to take a step into the room, certain there's a trap waiting for him somewhere. "Now," he says. "Let's try this again. Where is Napoleon?"

 

"I already told you," Archimedes says, standing up slowly, eyes fixed on the gun that tracks his movement. "He's dead, Mr. Kuryakin. You cannot change that by killing _me_." The unsaid hangs between them - all the things Illya can change by _not_ killing Archimedes. The information he could provide. The leg up to the next level of Thrush, aiding the steady rise until Uncle can finally eliminate the entire organization for once and for all.

 

But what Archimedes has done is underestimated Illya and his devotion to Napoleon. He has taken away the one thing Illya fears losing, and so the choice has become moot. Illya pulls the trigger. The shot is loud in the small office, the effects sudden and harsh as the bullet penetrates Archimedes's skull, sending his head sharply backwards before his body follows and he slumps to the floor, empty and lifeless. A spot of blood stains the wall behind the desk, the red bright against the white paint.

 

Illya considers the office for a moment, then holsters his gun and turns his back. There will be nothing here. Thrush is too careful and if Archimedes were that foolish he would have been dead long before Napoleon and Illya came to investigate.

 

He is almost to the front door, ready to leave it all behind, when his communicator beeps in his pocket. He freezes, wondering what he will say to Mr. Waverly. How he will explain what will seem like a lapse in judgment. He considers postponing, but it's for the best to get it over with. He slips the pen from his pocket and with steady fingers opens the channel. "Kuryakin here," he says.

 

The voice that replies is faint and low and feels like a punch to Illya's gut. "Illya?" It is Napoleon.  "Illya, are you there?"


	2. Before

"Archimedes Brown," Mr. Waverly starts speaking before Illya and Napoleon have even settled in their seats. On the screen behind him is a picture of a large, bald headed man with piercing blue eyes. "He is a lower operative in Thrush's organization, but he is in charge of something called Project Will." The screen blinks for a moment and shifts to another picture, this one of a group of soldiers. "Members of various militaries across the globe have gone missing over the past few months. Not too many at once, of course, but the pattern has been noticed."

Waverly turns the table, stopping it when the mission details are in front of Illya and Napoleon. With one finger, Napoleon flips the folder open and he and Illya lean in to look the information over as Waverly continues the briefing.

"Brown is located in London and his front is as a real estate developer. He's bought up quite a lot of disused warehouse properties. He's looking for partners to help him rejuvenate the area." Waverly shuts off the projector and clasps his hands on the table in front of him. "Mr. Solo you will be going in as a potential partner with a plan for one of the properties, it's all outlined there," he gestures at the folder. "Mr. Kuryakin you will be joining the protesters who feel that Mr. Brown's plans will mean a dangerous gentrification of their neighborhood.

"Yes, Mr. Kuryakin, you will fit right in with the rabble," Napoleon says with a wry grin, leaning back in his chair.

"Try not to puff up too much, Mr. Solo," Illya replies dryly, standing. "You're a businessman, not a peacock."

Napoleon's smile falls quickly, but a small one tugs at Illya's lips. Before Napoleon can respond, Waverly clears his throat and the two agents hastily retreat, off to prepare for their mission.


	3. After

"Napoleon, where are you?" he cannot keep the worry from his voice, can't stop himself shaking as he waits for Napoleon's response.

"Illya, how do you break an unbreakable man?" Napoleon asks. It's followed by a hysterical laugh and then the channel closes.

Illya slams his fist into the wall, letting out a string of Russian curses against the pain and the frustration as he turns back and storms into Archimedes's office. Traps be damned, if there's any record of where Napoleon is he'll have to search the entire building. Starting here.


End file.
